I know the truth and it haunts me
by tourniquetkid
Summary: A new story by Tourniquetkid and Marky's Girl. Bringing Maureen and Joanne to you in a way you've never seen before. Well worth a glance. I promise.
1. Chapter 1

Title: I know the truth and it haunts me

Rating: R (for language)

Authors: Tourniquetkid and Marky's Girl

This is a collaborative effort between two dedicated RENT writers. Hope you enjoy!

**JOANNE POV**

Joanne was sure she was actually losing brain cells as every moment passed. Sitting in this stuffy bar with her boss, who was boring as hell, and the new client, who had a losing case anyway, Joanne just wished she could be home with Maureen.

"Mr. Paxton, I am sorry about this." She apologized, looking at her watch. "I told Maureen I would be back a half hour ago. We have people waiting on us."

"Well, that's fine Ms. Jefferson," he replied a little too blasé for Joanne's comfort. "I am sure any number of your coworkers would be more than willing to take over this case, if you deem your social life more important then your work."

"No. It's fine Mr. Paxton" Joanne replied. "I can be here as long as you need."

**MAUREEN POV**

Maureen walked into the empty apartment. She'd just come back from an addition that had went bad, and she intended to drown her sorrows in a pint of mint chocolate chip, and her girlfriend.

When she reached for the knob, the door was locked. _Odd, _she thought, _Joanne should be home. _She fished around in her purse for her keys, after finding them, she entered the darkened apartment. It was neat and tidy, and clearly no one had been home all day.

She walked over to the answering machine, hoping to find a message from her girlfriend. Instead, an unknown female's voice came from the machine, "Hey, Joanne. Umm, I guess you already left…ok. I will be there in a bit. I can't believe you remembered about the restaurant. It brings back some really great memories….Anyways. I'll be there in a bit."

'_What the hell?' _Maureen thought, livid. Was Joanne cheating on her? _I never even actually cheated. Only flirted._

Suddenly, Maureen knew why Joanne wasn't home. Maureen was NOT going to take this sitting down. In a huff, she left the room, called Mimi, and headed down to the local bar.

**AT THE APARTMENT**

Maureen walked into the apartment, slamming the door behind her. As she threw her coat onto the bed she felt an arm come from behind her and spin her around,

"Where the hell were you?" Joanne asked, the anger in her voice barely constrained. Maureen laughed at the question.

"Better question, who were you with?" Maureen countered. She walked off before Joanne had a chance to answer, locking herself in the bathroom.

Joanne stalked after her. "What the hell are you talking about? I'm not the one waltzing in here at 3 am!" Joanne responded pounding on the door.

Maureen flung the door open. "Don't try to put all of this on me Joanne! I am tired of this high and mighty shit. I was out…with Mimi! Not some random girl. Who was she?" Joanne couldn't help but laugh. Maureen was trying to make herself look innocent...ha!

"I had a meeting with a client." Joanne replied. "A business dinner, nothing more." She tried to put her arms around Maureen only to have her shrug off her embrace. Rationalizing with Maureen was futile Joanne realized.

"I came home at eight. Did you know that Joanne? I was fucking here and you weren't. That's when I went out with Mimi. So it's not my fault. I was here. You said your meeting was for four." She turned away from Joanne as she felt the tears well up. There was no way she was giving Joanne the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

Joanne wasn't sure whether to get angry or try to comfort Maureen. She had never been anything less than faithful. "Where the hell is this coming from, Maureen?" She asked. "I told you I had a meeting."

Maureen grabbed the blinking answering machine. The sound of a female's voice echoed in the now silent apartment.

"Hey, Joanne. Umm, I guess you already left…ok. I will be there in a bit. I can't believe you remembered about the restaurant. It brings back some really great memories….Anyways. I'll be there in a bit." Once the woman's message ended, Maureen tossed the machine back on the table with a thud that sent everything else crashing to the floor.

"Some fucking meeting, Joanne. Sounds pretty friendly."

"First off, where do you get off being paranoid, Maureen? I have never done anything to make you think I was cheating. That was my client. She mentioned to me a place she liked to go for drinks because it was where she met her husband, so I made reservations there. Her HUSBAND, Maureen! I picked a restaurant I knew she would like. I'm sorry! But Maureen, do I have to bring up the drunken phone calls at 1:00 in the morningasking for Maureen." As soon as the words came out of her mouth Joanne realized she had crossed a line. Maureen no longer looked sad, just very very pissed.

"Fuck it Joanne. I'm through. I want my stuff back. I have to get out of here." Maureen didn't know what to think anymore. Maybe Joanne had been right. Maybe it had been just a business meeting, but was every night she came home late another business meeting? Joanne had been getting distant. She didn't even look at her the same way. What if Joanne didn't love her anymore?

"Wait, Maureen. I want to get this right. I am supposed to trust everything you do but you are ready to walk out the door after one voicemail that I explained. That's fucking fair Maureen." Joanne was beyond sparing any sort of feelings. She didn't care that the tears were now freely falling down Maureen's face.

"I'm out of here Joanne." Maureen ran into their bedroom slamming the bedroom door behind her. Joanne sank into the couch and dropped her head into her hands as she heard the door lock. A few minutes later Maureen emerged carrying her suitcases. Joanne raised her head and their red rimmed eyes locked.

"Do you need any help?' She asked weakly.

"I've got it." Maureen answered her voiced steely. "Goodbye Joanne."


	2. Chapter 2

**MAUREEN POV.**

"Shit!" Maureen yelped as she stubbed her toe on the coffee table. She had spent the previous night asleep on the loft's lumpy, worn couch.

Maureen walked over to the large suitcase that held her belongings. She reached around for some fresh clothes, but instead hit something hard. Intrigued, she reached in, and felt what seemed to be a book. _What's a book doing in my stuff?_ She pulled it out. It was a neat leather bound book. She flipped it open. She immediately recognized Joanne's neat, curvy handwriting. _This is Joanne's diary! _She pulled it out. Should she read it? No, she knew better than that... But still, Joanne would never know. And what if she wrote something about her? _She's bound to have said something about me. _

As she mulled ethics and curiosity, she heard "Maureen? Is everything OK out there?" Mark. She really should thank him. Not all of her exes would let her sleep on their couch.

"Everything's fine!" Maureen yelped, slamming the book shut, guiltily. She felt her voice rise.

"Are you sure? I heard you yell." Mark called from the other room.

"Mark, I swear I'm fine!" She said. Well, physically she was fine. Maybe heartbroken.

**JOANNE POV**

Joanne grudgingly got out of bed. She hadn't slept any the night before. She was so used to having a body next to her that trying to sleep alone left her awake and cold. She had finally given into exhaustion around 3 am.

Joanne made her way into the kitchen carefully stepping around the spilled contents from the table that had fallen the night before. She fixed her own coffee, something she hadn't done since she had started dating Maureen. Maureen had always had the coffee made and was usually wide awake by the time Joanne had gotten up. Maureen was the morning person, something Joanne never understood.

As she waited on the coffee she decided to pick up the mess left from the night before. She returned the knick knacks that Maureen had collected to the table before noticing a pink book that had been shoved under.

Joanne picked up the book, knowing immediately that it was a diary, due to the fact that the word diary was scrawled across the cover.

She opened it, running her fingers over the familiar loopy handwriting. Turning back to the kitchen she noticed that the coffee was ready. She put the book back where she had found it, but it didn't stray far from her thoughts.


End file.
